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"I will admit that he has stuck to his job more faithfully than anybody expected
him to."
Elizabeth turned slowly upon her friend, "You don't like Harold," she said; "why is
it?"
Harriet shook her head.
"I do like him, Elizabeth, for your sake. I suppose the trouble is that I realize that
he is not good enough for you. I have known him all my life, and even as a little
child he was never sincere. Possibly he has changed now. I hope so. And then
again I know as well as you do that you are not in love with him."
"
How perfectly ridiculous!" cried Elizabeth. "Do you suppose that I would marry a
man whom I didn't love?"
"
"
"
You haven't the remotest idea what love is. You've never been in love."
Have you?" asked Elizabeth.
No," replied Harriet, "I haven't, but I know the symptoms and you certainly
haven't got one of them. Whenever Harold isn't going to be up for dinner or for the
evening you're always relieved. Possibly you don't realize it yourself, but you show
it to any one who knows you."
"Well, I do love him," insisted Elizabeth, "and I intend to marry him. I never had
any patience with this silly, love-sick business that requires people to pine away
when they are not together and bore everybody else to death when they were."
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